


there is an indentation, in the shape of you

by everdeenwayland



Series: my theonsa fics [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, One Shot, Pining, Teeth rooting fluff, flufff, theon is the softest around sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:44:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everdeenwayland/pseuds/everdeenwayland
Summary: If anyone had asked him, he’d tell them that the inflection point in his life had always been the departure of Sansa Stark. And truth be told, for him she has never left, her memory has made her permanent residence in the deepest places of his mind. But he’ll never admit that.Not even to himself.Or, alternatively: Two idiots in love.





	there is an indentation, in the shape of you

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by an anon on Tumblr, who wanted some modern one shot of finally admitting feelings. This is pure tooth rooting fluff and I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr: everdeenwayland
> 
> Title from dress by Taylor Swift

i.

Theon Greyjoy isn’t good at relationships, nor is he at the love thing itself, it’s a known fact. He has never been and, probably, never would. He has made up his mind about it, it doesn’t hurt him anymore. That is, of course, until _Sansa Stark_ reappears in his life.

(If anyone had asked him, he’d tell them that the inflection point in his life had always been the departure of Sansa Stark. And truth be told, for him she has never left, her memory has made her permanent residence in the deepest places of his mind. But he’ll never admit that.

Not even to himself.)

 

ii.

She came back like she left, in the most unexpected of ways. One day she is at King’s Landing studying in college and the next she is there, in her brother’s apartment, eating dinner with Robb and him. Robb had told him about her return, on the phone, but he omitted a few things, like the fact that she had become the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen —not that she was ugly before, of course, Sansa Stark had always been _fucking gorgeous._

He stands there, like the idiot he is, looking at her. And then, she rises up from her seat just to hug _him_. She tells him how much she had missed him with a smile that make him think that maybe she means it, and, that maybe, and only _maybe_ there is the slightest tiniest of hopes she had wanted to see him too.

He has missed her, there is no doubt at that, but telling her that would be pointless —anyone who ever crossed paths with her would miss her, that is the side effects of Sansa Stark’s presence.

And he wants to tell her that, _of course he wants_ , but he is scared that if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll blurt something stupid,

( _I was fine with not being able to hold you the ways I want, really, I was, but just when I think I may be over you somehow, you have to come back and be fucking stunning and I don’t know how to process any of this feelings, and-_

Yeah, not the brightest of things to tell her when she had just come back.

Not the brightest of things to _ever_ tell her.)

 

iii.

They fall on a familiar pattern, the one they used to have before she left. She would come to visit him on the harbor while he worked on fixing boats and they would talk about whatever was on her mind. Most likely, _she_ would talk, and _he_ would listen. Or, that was the way it was before she left.

 _Now,_ he talks and talks, and she listens. She sits next to him, barefoot, her feet almost touching the water, and a cup of tea in her hand —for her, and one of coffee —for him.

(He isn’t sure how she knows the way he likes his coffee, but she nails it every _fucking_ time she brings him a cup. Every. Fucking. Time.

Clearly, she is a witch and has some cool mind reading powers. _That_ is the only believable reason why she knows.)

 

iv.

Once, he had thought impossible to be more in love with her, but unsurprisingly, he had been wrong about it.

He had been wrong about other things, too, like a few weeks ago when he _assumed,_ she was still dating that Baratheon asshole. Then, Robb almost killed him just for saying his name.

He didn’t regret being wrong about her relationship status. Not at all. But what he _did_ regret was the way her face fell when she heard him, the way her hands had trembled upon hearing _that_ name aloud.

Oh, how does he regret that.

 

v.

“Robb told me you had a girlfriend.” She says one day without any type of warning before.

“Yeah, months after you left, I’m pretty sure you don’t know her tho.” He nods and continues with his work.

He expects her to continue saying whatever she was leading up to, but she keeps silence. Her gaze down, thoughtful.

“We were together for almost a year, and apparently, I wasn’t good enough for her. Not when my own father had disinherited me. Not when I didn’t have a dollar to my name.” He tells her, his gaze fix on the boat he has in his hands.

He can feel her eyes on him.

“Then she is stupid.” She declares with some kind of resolution in her tone.

He can’t help but let out a laugh.

“Aye, she is.” He agrees, a smile on his lips.

“Guess we both have terrible taste when it comes to liking people, don’t we?” She says with a soft laughter.

 _Not me, liking you is the only good decision I’ve ever made,_ he thinks to himself.

“We sure do, love.”

 

vi.

He is not sure what makes him do it, but he kisses her one Friday night, on the club. He’s pretty sure the last few shots help him, and the way she laughs and dances around the room unaware of the way she makes this hell of a place somehow special, and the way _she_ —

Well, maybe he knows _what_ makes him do it. But that’s not the important part of it. What’s important is the way her hands touch his shoulders with brief touches, how she opens her lips to him, how he can savor the faintest taste of cranberry on her mouth. She giggles, when he moves away to watch her, and he laughs too. He is _happy_.

And then she kisses him. And he kisses her. And they kiss each other.

Everything after that is a blur of her lips and shots and feeling some kind of tingling sensation on his belly.

 

vii.

When he wakes up in the morning, he is alone.

It’s not really a surprise, he tends to have those kind of dreams lately, dreams in which she loves him the same way he loves her, dreams in which she kisses him and tells him what he wants to hear.

He turns around in his bed, not wanting to face the reality of it, but the smell of coffee startles him. Yara is not in their house, she told him that she would spend the weekend in Dany’s house so, who the _hell_ is there?

He gets on his feet in seconds and he thinks that is the first time he’d ever get up so fast from his bed, his heart beating so fast he fears it’s going to jump out of his chest. He doesn’t ever bother to put a shirt on and then, he sees her.

She is _there_ , in his _fucking_ kitchen with only his _fucking_ shirt on and maybe, he considerers, he has died somehow and get to heaven —or the afterlife or whatever the hell _this_ is— because _that_ sight isn’t something, he thought he’ll never get to see.

Her hair falls upon her shoulder, freely, and she’s looking at his coffee pot with a look of desperation in her face that tells him that for once, there’s something Sansa Stark doesn’t know.

“Need help, sweetheart?” He asks her, a smug smile on his lips when he surprises her.

She looks at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. He approached her from behind and hugged her, pushing aside some of her strands of hair to kiss her nape. He can feel her shivering at his touch, and he can’t help but cast a half smile. His hands roam freely for belly, caressing her ivory skin softly.

(And he does not know what does _this_ means exactly for her, but for him it’s _everything._ He believes he’ll die happy knowing that one day he got to hold her in _one_ of the many ways he wants, even thought it would never be enough—

He won’t ever get enough of Sansa Stark. Not in his life, not in _any other_.)

 _I love you, I love you, I love you_ , his mind chants as she kisses him. He kisses her with a hunger he has never experienced in his life, and she imitates him. He can’t think of another thing that’s not her, his hands intertwined in her hair, his lips on her.

 

viii.

It’s not a surprise for any of them that they end up on his bed again, tangled in his sheets. And when it ends, he cuddles her and kisses her hair and she giggles in his arms. She turns to look at him and he snuggles her closer to him. He is being the sappiest idiot, he is aware, but, right now, in his bed with her, he is the happiest he has ever been. He doesn’t want to wake up from this dream.

He _really_ doesn’t. But reality hits him hard.

Sansa sighs and closes her eyes and she disentangles herself from him. She sits on his bed, her back turned to him and he wants to touch. His bed feels colder without her and his hands ache from being deprived of her.

He rolls on his bed just to be closer to her but giving her some space too. He’s still high on his own happiness.

“Hey.” He mutters.

She turns her head to look at him and outlines half a smile to him, raising her hand to touch his cheek.

“Hey.” She whispers in return.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” He asks and she laughs at his question.

“Theon, dinner time is like _seven_ hours away, you silly.” She teases him, her hand brushing his disheveled curls.

He leans into her touch, like a cat would do.

“That’s the idea love.” He winks at her.

And, suddenly, the funny look on her eyes is gone, replaced by a sadness he doesn’t feel ready to face. He embraces himself for the heartbreak. It is really a privilege, being heartbroken by Sansa Stark.

“I… This cannot happen again Theon, I… I don’t do this kind of thing; the _fuck_ _buddies_ thing and I don’t think I can. We… we can still be friends, right?” She blurts.

Being friends with Sansa Stark is better than anything, he guesses. He nods at her, pressing his hands to his eyes. He wonders why she doesn’t want him, why he isn’t enough, but he already knows the answers to those questions.

When he opens his eyes, she is still there, looking at him with concern clearly on her face.

“Of course, Sans, we can be friends. I’m sorry for kissing you, I’ve should have known that it wouldn’t lead anywhere.”

He shouldn’t have got his hopes up, but he did and now he is suffering the consequences of his actions.

“I kissed you too, I’m sorry.”

She avoids his gaze, but he can’t find the energy to care about _that_ specifically right now.

“Don’t blame yourself, it’s not like you’ve been in love with _me_ your _whole life_. I overstepped my boundaries and I know it may be difficult for you to trust me again, but I _promise_ you it won’t happen again.” He promises her and he means every _fucking_ word.

He can’t bare to look at her, not after what he has just confessed to her. God, he really is an idiot, telling the girl who has dumped him seconds ago that he loves her — and that he kind of always did.

“What do you mean?” She asks in the smallest of voices.

“Oh, c’mon Sansa don’t make me embarrass myself more, can you please forget I said anything, please?” He pleads.

Theon _fucking_ Greyjoy pleads.

“You… you love me?” She sounds like she doesn’t quite believe him and it’s starting to piss him.

He knows Sansa, he knows she is not doing this out of any desire to hurt him more, but it hurts him anyways. He doesn’t want to keep talking about his feelings —he has never liked doing it, but it’s not like he can kick her out of his house. Not like he wants to.

“Of course, I do, why would I have kissed you otherwise?” He questions her.

“Because you find me attractive? Theon, you had never been the type to only kiss the girls you love.”

“I know, but you… you are my friend.”

“That haven’t stopped you before.”

“Seven hells Sansa! Why are you so keen on not believing me? Is the idea of me loving you really _that_ unbelievable?” He explodes, in a harsher tone that he intended to.

But Sansa she… she kisses him again.

And, don’t get him wrong, he loves being kissed by her, but, in that exact moment, he doesn’t understand _why_. But, before he can ask her anything, she takes his head between her hands, looking straight into his eyes.

“I love you Theon Greyjoy, that’s why.”

His face breaks in the biggest grin he has ever had, and he kisses her again. And again. And again.

“I love you too sweetheart, believe it or not.” He whispers to her, pressing his lips to her neck.

 

ix.

That night, she ends up staying for dinner. And the night after that. And the night after the night after.

And he keeps telling her he loves her, just to make sure she believes him.

 

x.

Theon Greyjoy wasn’t good at relationships, nor was he at the love thing itself, it was known fact. That is, of course, until _Sansa Stark_.

After that, he starts to believe he may not be that bad after all if he gets to hold her every night and kiss her every morning.

Theon Greyjoy isn’t good at relationships, but, with Sansa Stark by his side, he has found that it doesn’t matter anymore. Somehow, she is good enough at this for the two of them.

 

 


End file.
